Touching the Cross

I watched her carefully as she left my office, tears washing her cheeks. She was weary, genuinely weary. She didn't understand how I knew what she was going through. Her suffering had been revealed and that frightened her. She had spilled her story of abuse and pain and family separation. I held her hands in mine and gently spoke, "I've been where you are, I know your suffering." She looked at me incredulously before the tears suddenly welled up in her eyes. "I'm so glad I found this place, she whispered." Then she grabbed hold of me, pulling me toward her in a hug that nearly choked the air out of me. It was as if she were holding on for dear life. In that moment, I suppose she was.

This thin, frail woman was just one of many homeless guests who need someone to listen to their life legend. Grace House is more than a home away from homelessness, it's a safe haven, a sanctuary...a place full of God's mercy. Our mission is to offer the shelter of God's hope and love. Someone asked me when that mission was born, "What does that mean exactly?" I struggled to find an accurate explanation then. I realize now, it means something different to each person who enters there. For some, it's a safe and much needed nap on the couch. For others, it's a quiet place to read and pray. For someone else, it's a place to vent their anger and frustration. For this woman...it was a place to weep, to be held, to be renewed and to find...hope.

It was not the first time I had seen a person ravaged by drugs. The telltale signs were evident. She was gaunt with sunken cheeks, eyes darting, nervous energy with nowhere to go except in search of her next fix. Confusion, sadness, anger, grief...all of it poured out of her until she could speak no more. I reminded her that God offers us a "new beginning" in life. That was the good news of Christ's suffering on the cross. That new beginning doesn't mean the pain of the past will immediately disappear, but it does mean there is hope for a future. I shared the scripture from Jeremiah 29:11. "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Her eyes flickered with an inner light the drugs had temporarily veiled. She smiled for the first time, tears still fresh on her face. She said she knew that, but wanted to believe it more than know it. I invited her to stay if she felt comfortable, to rest a while...and to return to the Grace House whenever she felt like it. She cautiously entered the living room where other guests had gathered. Before she left the house, she timidly asked if she could have a bottle of water. "Of course, this is your home, you're welcome to whatever God provides." She smiled weakly and headed for the door. Then suddenly she stopped and looked up. There on the wall, behind the door hung a wooden cross. She looked at the word written in the middle of the cross. "GRACE" and then slowly her long frail fingers touched the cross...as she whispered, "I like this place." Then suddenly the door opened...and she was gone.

For the longest time, I could not let go of the image of her frail hand reaching up to touch the cross. It was an act of reverence and awe, like no other I had ever witnessed. My mind flashed to the woman who had reached out to touch the hem of His robe...tentative, frail, wounded and in need of healing...but with a faith and reverence that caused Him to call her daughter.

This single act of reverence and awe before the fragile woman vanished from the doorway of the Grace House, spoke the truth of why we are all here...to offer the shelter of God's hope and love to one another. Jesus said, "I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me." The righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?" The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'

The door stood open for a long time after she left. I was transfixed on Holy ground unable to move across the room. God had entered this house, touched the cross with love and then left the door open as if to echo words spoken to the disciples long ago, "I will return..."

Peace, Cindy